


Lucerne

by doctorhelena



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 03:16:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5481275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorhelena/pseuds/doctorhelena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy and Steve and late night Christmas Eve fondue.<br/>An AU in which Steve was rescued from the Valkyrie almost immediately.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Peggy picked up her fondue fork, holding it with the practiced ease of one long accustomed to using everyday objects as weapons. Across the room, at a safe distance, Howard looked smug.

Fondue in Lucerne. He had actually managed it. Luckily Peggy was in a good mood, and was well into her second glass of the excellent wine that he had also provided. And it was Christmas. She could forgive a lot on Christmas Eve.

Beside her Dugan was trying without success to retrieve a piece of bread that had fallen into the fondue pot. Peggy speared it easily and popped it into her own mouth, stopping for a moment to savour the rich flavours of gruyere and kirsch. “You’ve been in the field too long, Dugan,” she said, swallowing. “I knew you had no manners, but I didn’t realize you’d actually forgotten how to use cutlery.”

Dugan shrugged, taking a healthy swig of his drink. “War’s supposedly over, but I still spend way too much time living in a tent eating K-rations.” He tried again, a slice of apple this time, with more success. “There.”

“You have cheese on your mustache,” Peggy pointed out helpfully. He smirked at her, and she smirked back as she speared another piece of bread with a flourish.

Across the room, a four-piece band was playing quietly. Snow was falling outside, and she took a moment to appreciate that for once she had no need to go out in it. She took another sip of her wine, feeling warmth spread through her chest and into her shoulders, relaxing muscles that she hadn’t even realized were tense.

She looked around the table at her dining companions. Dugan, Dernier, Jones, Falsworth, and Morita,  only Falsworth looking completely at ease in the elegant setting. The Howling Commandos minus one. She felt a familiar pang at the absence of Bucky, who had been like a brother first to Steve and then to all of them. He should have been here, celebrating with the rest of them. They’d toasted him several times already this evening.

But it could have been so much worse, she reminded herself. They’d almost lost Steve too, but here he was, sitting across from her, smiling, nudging her foot under the long tablecloth. She smiled back at him. “So, what do you think, Captain Rogers?” she asked quietly. “Is fondue in Lucerne all you thought it would be?”

“I have to admit I was picturing it a little differently.”

She laughed. “One would hope so.” She watched as he flushed a little and his eyes darkened. He was clearly picturing it again right now, and despite her attempt to keep things light she could feel her own body responding, her breath coming a little faster.

It had been weeks since she’d seen him, and they hadn’t had a chance to be alone yet today, meeting up at Howard’s party just as pre-dinner cocktails were ending and everyone was moving to their tables. In fact, they’d had precious few chances to be alone in months, and while she hadn’t been expecting to literally have fondue with him this evening, she had rather thought that they might get a little closer to the metaphorical kind. Lately she’d been having more and more trouble remembering why they were waiting at all.

They hadn’t gone dancing after he’d been rescued from his crash in the north Atlantic. The Stork Club had been a ridiculous fantasy, of course, because the war was still on and neither of them was in New York, but in the end, they’d decided that even a dance in an obscure corner of London was too risky.

Colonel Phillips had made it clear that just this once he would overlook the kiss in the car and the dancing date made over the radio, but that he did not condone fraternization among the people under his command, “And I need you both,” he had added, “so don’t do anything stupid.”

And they hadn’t, unless stolen kisses in rare private moments counted, and Peggy refused to believe they did. She knew how close she had come to losing Steve when the Valkyrie went down. The kisses were a promise, a touchstone, a reminder that the war would be over soon, and then things would change.

Except, they hadn’t changed in the way everyone had thought they would. Instead of kissing Steve in Trafalgar Square on VE Day, Peggy had to content herself with pushing Howard into the Thames while Steve and the Commandos shut down a Hydra base half a continent away. The splash _had_ been satisfying, but here they were, still rooting out Hydra outposts almost six months after the war had officially ended.

She did get to go out in the field far more often than she had during the war. But, despite the fact that the Commandos were much less discouraging than Colonel Phillips when it came to fraternization between her and Steve, mission logistics often prevented anything more private than hanging back a little to talk without being overheard.

Dugan nudged her. “Missed each other, did you?” He angled his chin towards Phillips. Peggy blinked, realized that she was openly staring at Steve’s mouth, and speared a piece of apple with a bit more force than necessary. Steve looked guilty and withdrew his foot, which had slipped out of his shoe and made its way somewhat further up her leg. She stopped herself from making a small noise of protest, and frowned instead.

“Thank you,” she said to Dugan, and sighed, glancing across to where Phillips sat at a table that appeared to be almost equally divided between military uniforms and people who looked like they could be movie stars. Howard, unable to do things by halves, somehow had enough friends in Lucerne to justify taking over the entire hotel restaurant for his intimate Christmas Eve gathering.

Steve and the Commandos were in Switzerland far less officially than she and Phillips were, but the clandestine mission they’d been on had ended quickly and successfully three days before Christmas, and when Howard heard that they’d been granted leave he’d insisted on putting them all up in his favourite hotel in Lucerne and hosting a party.

Peggy and Phillips had been tied up in meetings in Zurich until this afternoon, but it was only 30 miles to Lucerne, the trains were running, and despite Phillips’ grumbling they’d arrived just in time to check in to the hotel and change their clothes. Well, Peggy had changed into her only good dress, the trusty red one she’d been relying on since 1941. Phillips looked just the same as he had when she’d left him in the lobby an hour ago, still in his dress uniform from their last meeting.

She’d hoped to have a chance for a private moment with Steve before the party started, but the room had been crowded, and Phillips had been right there, and there hadn’t been a good opportunity to steal away in the few minutes before they were called in to dinner.

They’d meant to make the best of it, to enjoy the party and the companionship of the Commandos, and then slip away once the meal was over and the dancing had started. But somehow their best intentions hadn’t been enough, and now she was having trouble focussing on anything but Steve. Every nerve ending in her body was on high alert. She was trying to hide just how much she wanted to be alone with him, but she feared that neither she nor Steve was doing a very good job of it.

“You know, we can cover for you two if you need a small break in the cloakroom.” Dugan was teasing, but Peggy knew there was an honest offer underneath. All of the Commandos would cover for them, she knew. And she wondered how much Phillips would really care about a little fraternization, as long as he had no actual proof. The war was over but there was no end in sight, and he surely couldn’t expect them to wait forever.

If she was wrong, though, and they were caught, she would almost certainly be the one reassigned, and what would she be reassigned to? Making coffee and taking lunch orders for the sort of idiotic men who’d been vying for Steve’s spot in Project Rebirth? She knew there weren’t many employment opportunities that would give her a chance to be so fully herself as her current job did.

And unless Steve resigned in protest they might be together in name, but they would see each other rarely and fleetingly. Wasn’t it better to see him almost every day? Her own hands were a poor, if frequent, substitute for him in her bed at night, but in return she got his smile, his voice, his steady presence the rest of the time.   

She and Steve had discussed it from all angles, many times, and neither of them was sure they wanted to risk it. Peggy wasn’t entirely sure they were going to be able to keep resisting, though. She shifted in her chair, and had to work hard to resist the urge to squirm again. Oh, they were definitely in trouble.

She was almost thankful when Howard interrupted, leaning over their table with a glass of what looked like whisky in one hand. “Well, what do you know?” he said jovially. “Captain America and Agent Carter, in Lucerne, having a late night fondue together at last.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Is it everything you thought it would be, Steve?”

Steve sighed. “I’ll never live that down, will I?” he asked.

Howard grinned. “Never,” he said. He patted Steve on the shoulder, then leaned down and lowered his voice. “Although, just so you know, the walls in this hotel are incredibly soundproof. Very old. Solid stone. And,” he added, ignoring the looks on both of their faces, “Phillips has a room nowhere near either of yours. Merry Christmas!”

Peggy casually picked up her fondue fork again, and Howard moved back out of range. “Just being a good host!” he chirped cheerfully, moving on to the next table and snagging a glass of champagne from a waiter along the way.

Peggy sighed, and then sighed again more loudly as she heard Dugan snicker.

The waiters removed the fondue pots and brought out the main course: ham with scalloped potatoes, peas, carrots, and green beans. There was a brief silence as everyone settled into eating, and Peggy barely managed not to jump when she felt Steve’s foot return to her ankle.

“So, do you think it’s time for the gift?” asked Morita, across from Dugan.

Peggy blinked and forced her attention back to her table companions.

“Couldn’t have had a better opening,” said Dugan.

“Oh Lord,” she said, having a fairly good idea of where this was going. Her voice miraculously remained steady despite the fact that Steve’s toes had just reached her inner thigh, and she kicked at his other foot to stop him. Despite her better judgement, she was a little disappointed when he obeyed.

“You two deserve a Christmas Eve dance,” said Falsworth.

“And I think we’d all appreciate it if you would go spend some time alone together,” said Morita. “Get it out of your system. You’re… not being as subtle as you might think you are.” The others nodded emphatically.

“So, here’s the plan.” Falsworth pushed his empty plate toward the centre of the table. ”Peggy, you establish a general pattern of dancing before you accept a dance with Cap. After that, he calls it a night.”

Jones chimed in. “Then you dance with a few others, mingle, have another drink, and then go. You two aren’t leaving together, and he won’t be your only dance partner. It’s all perfectly innocent.”

Peggy gave them an exasperated look. “Believe it or not, I am somewhat of an expert in misdirection. If I want to arrange a clandestine meeting, I don’t actually require any assistance.” She loved the Commandos like brothers but, just like her real brothers, they were often far too eager to meddle in her affairs.

“Well, regardless, this may come in handy,” said Dernier in French, handing Steve a small package wrapped in cheerful Christmas paper. “Don’t open it now,” he added. Peggy was pretty sure she knew what was inside, and from the blush on Steve’s face as he took the package and put it in his pocket, so did he.

She couldn’t look at Dugan. She knew he was laughing. Jones was definitely laughing.

“Don’t say we never get you anything,” said Dugan, as the waiters removed the dinner plates, laying out large platters of Christmas cookies. Peggy held out her glass for a serving of port and considered draining it in one gulp. Instead she took an enormous bite of a snowflake-shaped sugar cookie and chewed in silence for a few minutes, feeling the icing melt on her tongue. She tried to imagine how much Howard had paid for all of this, amidst the heavy rationing that Switzerland was still under.

“So, do I get the first dance, Pegs?” asked Dugan, popping most of a gingerbread man into his mouth.

She rolled her eyes. “With impeccable manners like that, how can I say no?”

Steve nudged her foot again, and she shot him a glance. It was meant to be a warning against further foot manoeuvres, but when their eyes met it turned into something else entirely and she had to look away again.

The band was tuning up, and tables and chairs were being cleared away from the dance floor. Peggy decided that a brief retreat was in order and anyway, the two and a half glasses of wine meant that she really did need to use the facilities.

“I’m going to powder my nose,” she explained, beating a hasty retreat towards the ladies room. She caught Phillips’ eye on the way out and he held up his glass in a silent toast, looking at her thoughtfully.


	2. Chapter 2

The ladies room was decorated for Christmas too, with swags of evergreen and holly and red bows over the mirror. After using the facilities and washing her hands, Peggy examined herself, reapplying her lipstick and then actually adding a little powder to her nose. There was no hiding that she was flushed, and her pupils were darker than usual, but one could conceivably attribute the change in her appearance to alcohol rather than lust.

She felt herself flush a little more as she noticed that Steve had smudged the stocking seam drawn onto the back of her left leg. There was no way the Commandos had missed it as she’d walked away. She decided that there was really no point in wondering if Phillips had noticed too. Instead, she busied herself with fixing it, then straightened up, smoothed out her dress, and headed back to the dining room, where the band had just begun to play.

She could do this. Just a few dances, and then they could leave.

The room was buzzing, tables all pushed back now, cigarette smoke wreathing the room. The dance floor was filling up, and one couple was already kissing under the mistletoe that she was quite certain Howard had insisted upon.

Dugan snagged her. “I was promised a dance, Agent Carter.” She smiled and allowed him to pull her in, feeling a wave of affection for him as she settled in against his bulky chest. Countless days of living practically in each other’s back pockets, marching, eating, sleeping, and fighting together had given them a level of comfort and appreciation for each other’s capabilities that Peggy knew she was unlikely to find again. Despite the frustration of her situation with Steve, she loved working with the Commandos, having her skills truly appreciated, making a real difference in the world, one Hydra base at a time.

“You’re quiet, Agent Carter,” he said after a moment, twirling her before she could answer.

She waited as he wound her back into his arms. “Just thinking. It’s been a long few weeks.”

“It has. Mission just wasn’t the same without you. We all missed you. Not just him.” He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, then pulled back, smiling. “Merry Christmas, Pegs.”

She returned the gesture. “Merry Christmas, Dugan. And thank you for the thought, even if the entire idea of a dancing schedule is absolutely ridiculous. And Steve and I can sneak out just fine on our own, thank you.” They grinned at each other.

“Just making sure,” said Dugan. Peggy rolled her eyes.

Howard managed to be right beside them as the dance ended. “I see you two found the mistletoe!” He gestured to his cheek. “Really, though, Peggy, I’d expected you’d be more circumspect. What is Phillips going to think?” He held out his hand to her shoulder. “May I have the next dance?”

“You’re not getting a kiss,” she warned him.

“Not even for Christmas? Even Dugan got one!”

“Even me? What do you mean, even I got one?” Dugan looked affronted.

 Peggy sighed. “I don’t recall this part of the schedule.”

Howard raised an eyebrow. “Schedule?”

“Don’t ask,” she warned, as he swung her away.

“How mad are you about the fondue?” he asked after a while, examining her face closely. “Not mad at all,” he concluded. “But really wishing you were dancing with him instead of me.” He grinned. “So, planning to take advantage of the soundproof walls?”

She sighed again. Howard was really the most exasperating man she knew. “I would thank you to stop speculating about my love life, Howard. And if I didn’t want to be dancing with you, you would know it.”

“Oh, so you admit you and Steve have a love life!” Howard somehow managed to dig an elbow into her ribs without breaking the rhythm of their dance.

Peggy stepped on his toe, hard. “Oh, pardon me.” They smirked at each other. Howard was like a brother too, even if he was often more annoying than all of the rest of the Commandos put together.

“Well, let’s swing over in his direction, I think this song is almost over,” said Howard, pressing her arm to steer them over towards where Steve was seated at one of the tables at the edge of the dance floor. He dipped her dramatically as the song ended. “Merry Christmas, Carter.”

She smiled at him and kissed him on the cheek after all. “Merry Christmas, Howard.”

The next dance was slow, but Colonel Phillips intercepted her before she could reach Steve. Over his shoulder she saw Steve shrug and then turn down a dance offer from one of Howard’s movie star women. He met her eyes and raised his eyebrows, and she knew from his expression that he was thinking of Private Lorraine and the four dents that were still visible in his shield.  

She supposed it was hypocritical given that she was already on her third dance with three different men, two of whom she’d kissed on the cheek, but she felt a deep, irrational satisfaction that Steve was saving his first dance for her.

“We need to have a word, Carter,” Phillips began, and she snapped her attention back to him, following as he guided her onto the dance floor. She found herself mildly surprised that he knew how to dance at all.

She nodded. “Of course, sir.”

He was silent for several steps, gathering his thoughts. “Carter, we both know what I said about fraternization. Specifically about fraternization between you and Rogers.”

Her heart dropped. “Yes sir, but we haven’t – “

He stopped her with a look. “I don’t particularly want details on what you have and haven’t done with Rogers. Although, I have to say, neither of you have much of a track record for following orders, so I’m not really sure why I should believe you’ve been following this one.”

“But sir, this is –” she began.

“Carter,” he interrupted. “This isn’t what you think.” She closed her mouth. “I’m feeling magnanimous. It’s Christmas, the war is over, and despite your allergies to following orders, you’re both pretty damn good at getting the job done even with all the time you waste making goo-goo eyes at each other.”

“We do not ‘make goo-goo eyes at each other’,” she said with dignity, although she suspected that probably wasn’t completely true.

“Oh yes, you do.” He sighed, the deep sigh of an extremely put-upon man. “But listen carefully, Carter. We’re all adults here. I am willing to look in the other direction, but you need to maintain plausible deniability. You’re a spy. This clandestine stuff is right up your alley.”

There was a silence, as Peggy processed that. “So you’re saying that as long as we keep it quiet, we can…”

He waved his hand. “Please spare me the details. Plausible deniability, remember?” Then he smiled at her, and his whole face changed in an instant. “Merry Christmas, Carter.”

She smiled back, blinking back sudden tears that surely must be from the cigarette smoke. “Merry Christmas, sir.”

He squeezed her hand as the dance ended. “Just be smart, Carter. The last thing we need around here is an immaculate conception.”

Peggy felt her cheeks flare red. “Yes, sir.”

She walked over to Steve, feeling more than a little overwhelmed. He stood up and took her hand, and she stepped into his arms, leaving a little space in deference to Phillips’ plausible deniability. She could feel the electricity crackling between them anyway, as the rest of the room faded away. His heart was racing against her palm, even faster than her own, but then again, his base heartrate was higher since the serum. They swung onto the dance floor.

His palms were sweaty, and he did step on her toes, twice. He was a fast learner, though, and made up in enthusiasm what he lacked in skill, something she felt boded extremely well for the rest of the evening. He spoke first, his voice huskier than she had ever heard it. “What did Phillips want?”

“You mean aside from the pleasure of my company on the dance floor?” She smiled at him “He wanted to tell me that he’s had a change of heart about us.”

Steve frowned. “About us?”

Peggy leaned forward, her lips almost brushing his ear. “The gist of it is that he’s willing to look the other way if we keep things quiet.”

Steve took a second to process that. “You mean …”

She nodded.

She could see his throat as he swallowed thickly. She ran her thumb along the webbing between his fingers and thumb, and he nearly stopped dancing entirely. She tugged him around a turn and stepped in a little closer.

“Peggy,” he said in a strangled voice.

“Yes?” Her own voice was so low that she almost didn’t recognize it.

 “Do you think we still need make it look like we’re not leaving together?”

“I think at the very least we need to finish this dance. But maybe, just this once, Phillips will politely not notice if we both leave immediately afterward.”

He nodded and took a deep, steadying breath.

They danced in silence for a few moments. “I can’t decide if I should be annoyed or touched that everybody has decided not only that our love life is a perfectly acceptable topic of conversation, but that we are in clearly in desperate need of help,” Peggy said.

Steve nodded again. “They mean well. But yeah.” He considered for a moment. “Honestly, I really can’t bring myself to care about anything except you right now.”

“Oh, sod it,” she said, and pulled him off the dance floor. “Phillips very emphatically isn’t looking, and everybody else is clearly taking bets on how soon we’ll leave,” she said. “I don’t like to give them the satisfaction, but quite frankly, even I’m not stubborn enough to let pride win out over an opportunity like this. Let’s just go.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> M-rated content ahead!

They actually did manage to slip out without much comment, aside from a relatively subtle thumbs-up from Howard, and Steve took her hand once they were out of the dining room. “Whose room is closer?” he breathed. His fingertips played with her wrist and she bit back a small sound.

“Mine’s right down here,” she said, tugging him around a corner and along the corridor to her room. She fumbled in her small pocketbook for the key, unlocked the door, opened it, and pulled him through after her. He shut and locked it quickly behind them as she reached for him.

He met her halfway, kissing her rather desperately. She brought her arms around his neck, pressing herself fully against his body, feeling him already hard against her, and she was suddenly, blindingly, overtaken by arousal. She reached down with one hand between them, but it wasn’t enough, and she found herself pulling frantically at his zipper. He gasped and went still as she managed to get her hand inside and closed her fingers around him, skin on skin.

“Peggy!” he moaned, snaking his own hand under her dress, and she lost focus on everything but the jolts of electricity spreading through her body from where his thumb was moving against her. The next few moments were a little confused, but somehow he was pressing her against the door, her dress hiked up around her waist, and they were both gasping, separated only by the thin fabric of her underwear.

“The box – in your pocket” she panted, reaching down and trying to fish out the little wrapped present he’d put there during dinner.

Twisting around to reach into his pocket put them both at a new, very distracting, angle and Peggy vaguely hoped the door was as soundproof as the walls. “Are you sure – shouldn’t we move to –” Steve managed to pant out after a moment, holding the box in his palm and trying to tear into the wrapping paper with the fingers of the same hand. She reached out to help with her own free hand.

“Yes – no,” she gasped, “we can do it slowly and romantically next time. Just… open the box.” It briefly crossed her mind that it might not contain what she’d assumed it did, but luckily she had been correct, and there would be no need to kill Dernier later. Somehow between the two of them they managed to get the box open and roll the relevant bit of rubber onto the proper part of the anatomy. She pulled her underwear roughly to the side, and finally the thin sheath of rubber was the only thing between them.

They both made enough noise as Steve pushed inside her to thoroughly test Howard’s soundproofing claim. She dug her heels hard into his back, and found herself almost sobbing with relief as he began to move. It felt so good, and she’d wanted this for so long, and – and then abruptly he made a strangled noise and stilled, holding himself motionless for a long moment. Peggy barely managed not to vocalize her disappointment. He was new at this, she reminded herself. It was really a miracle that he’d lasted as long as he had. She loved him.

She gave him a moment to recover, then cleared her throat. “You all right there, Rogers?”

He nodded, looking dazed, and stepped back to let her slide down to her feet.

“Good,” she said, briskly, “because you’re only half done.” He looked at her, still a little dazed. “For God’s sake, Steven Rogers, do something before I’m forced to take matters into my own hands.” She pressed against him for emphasis, squirming a little against his thigh, and gasping a little, because the small movement really shouldn’t have felt as good as it did.

“Oh,” he said, blushing, and reached down to remove the johnny, tying it and tossing it cleanly into the wastebin across the room without even looking, then tucking himself back into his underwear. He bent down and scooped up the little box from the ground, then lifted Peggy into his arms and deposited both her and the box onto the bed a few steps away.

He hesitated a little as he leaned over her. “Just keep on with what you were doing before,” she said, guiding his hand and letting out a breath that was half moan, half sigh of relief when he finally started moving his fingers. She thrust up against his thumb as he leaned further over her and covered her lips with his, running his tongue over her bottom lip to gain entrance. He was a good kisser, and as she’d hoped, a quick study with his fingers as well, paying attention to her responses and adjusting his technique until she was panting so hard she could hardly catch her breath. She could feel her release coiling in her belly, building closer and closer, until everything was so exquisitely tense that she could hardly bear it. Just one more stroke and – and he abruptly withdrew his hand.

Her hips thrust up against nothing, and she made an inarticulate sound of protest. But he had already slid himself down to the foot of the bed. “Good Lord, Steven, you need to work on your timing,” she said, irritably.

“Sorry,” he breathed against her lower belly, and lowered his mouth to her. He was a good kisser everywhere, as it turned out, which made it a little easier to forgive him.

She’d been so close that it took no time at all until she was back where she had been, panting desperately, perfectly balanced for a long, weightless moment. This time he didn’t stop until the balance tipped and finally, finally shattered into waves of blissful relief. As if from a distance, she could vaguely hear the noises she was making as her release crashed over her, but she couldn’t really bring herself to care.

She lay there for a moment, just breathing, aftershocks like tiny explosions still sending little jolts of electricity through her body.

“Hey,” said Steve after a while, and she opened her eyes.

“Hey,” she said, and smiled up at him.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “I didn’t realize you were so… close to…” he gestured.

She smiled again. “You’re forgiven. It all ended very well.”

“Yeah?” he asked, running a hand idly along her hip bone. She twitched involuntarily and her breath caught. His breathing sped up a little too, and he did it again, more deliberately. Shamelessly, she pressed herself up into his hand as he began to move his fingers again.

“Gently,” she breathed, wincing as he pressed a little too hard on an overly sensitive area. As he backed off a little, she grabbed fistfuls of the coverlet with both hands, digging her heels into the bed to angle herself into exactly the right position. He hesitated for a second.

“Whatever you do, don’t stop this time,” she ordered, pressing against him again for emphasis, and he nodded and kept going. It didn’t take long to bring her to the brink again and she collapsed back onto the bed, boneless, as the last of the spasms shuddered through her body, leaving her utterly, deliciously relaxed.

He crawled up on the bed beside her and lay down next to her. “You OK?” he asked, drawing a finger down her jawline.

“Marvellous,” she said, languidly playing with the buttons on his uniform jacket. She smiled. “We’re both a little overdressed still, I think.”

He blushed. “I didn’t mean for it to happen so fast. I thought the first time we’d do it properly, but, well...”

She raised an eyebrow. “Well, I suppose what we just did could be considered somewhat improper, but I felt it went rather well.” 

He went redder. “That’s not what I meant. I just meant that I thought we’d take it slower, gentler, maybe get into the bed and take off our clothes first.”

She kissed him. “Shh. I know.” She rolled further into his embrace, and started to undo his jacket buttons. “We were both a little impatient.” She kissed the corner of his mouth. “We waited far longer than was really humane.”

He kissed her back, and reached around to unzip the back of her dress. “Well, now we can make up for lost time.”

She grinned as he lifted up so she could pull the jacket out from under him. “I’m not sure how happy the Commandos would be about us completely losing all restraint, even if they did seem to be big fans of us finally getting on with it.” She started on his shirt buttons, pausing for a moment as he pulled her dress down her shoulders and over her arms. She lifted her hips as he slid it down over her feet and laid it on the bed beside her, leaving her in nothing but her slip, brassiere, and underwear.

And her shoes, she realized suddenly.

She paused in her close examination of his chest, his shirt hanging open and untucked from his trousers. “We’re still wearing our shoes.”

He laughed, a little breathlessly. “I know.” He used his toes to slide his off, and looking down his body she could see that he was already straining against his underwear again. She raised an eyebrow and he blushed.

“I think it’s another side effect of the serum. Or maybe just a side effect of you.”

“Very smooth, soldier,” she said, and sat up onto her knees, pulling off her slip and unhooking her brassiere. She kicked off her shoes and had slid one hand into the waistband of her underwear before he stopped her with a hand at her wrist.

“Let me.” His eyes were focussed nowhere near her face, but under the circumstances she couldn’t really blame him.

She nodded and pulled at the shoulders of his shirt. “You’re still wearing far too much clothing, my darling.” He pulled his arms out of the shirt while she worked his trousers down over his backside, a job that she felt involved the need for a much closer manual inspection.

He shivered as she brought her hands around to push his underwear down, and the shiver turned to a moan as she leaned closer to slide a kiss along his hipbone. When she took him in her mouth, the noise he made had her thankful for the thick walls all over again.

She’d felt rather satisfied and sleepy after Steve had finished his earlier work, but now she found herself wriggling against the bedsheets as desire flared up sharply again. She moaned against him, and he stilled her with a hand against her head. “Come up here,” he said, tugging at her arm.

She released him with a final slide of her tongue that elicited a strangled sound from above her head, and then raised herself to her hands and knees, stopping to pull his trousers, socks, and underwear all the way off and discard them behind her.

“Now you’re the one who’s overdressed, Agent Carter,” he said, and slid both thumbs into the top of her underwear. She lost focus for a moment as his thumbs brushed over her centre on the way to easing the underwear off and down her legs, but she managed to pull one leg through and kick the drawers off with the other, making a vague mental note to get up afterwards and hang up her dress.

She looked at him and smiled, recognizing exactly where his eyes were without even having to follow his gaze – she’d caught him at it many times, although she’d always been fully dressed before. Hands following eyes, he reached out to cup one breast, and she let out a breathy sigh as his thumb found her nipple. He moaned in response, and she swung one leg over his body, giving in to a longstanding urge to thoroughly explore his chest with her mouth. She arched back a little as his continued survey of her breasts took a particularly good turn, and they both groaned as their hips made contact.

“So,” she said, breathlessly. “We’re in bed and we have all of our clothes off. Is this proper enough for you?”

He opened his eyes. “I love you, Peggy,” he said simply.

“I love you too,” she managed to gasp out, as he pressed his hips against hers again, “but do be a darling and pass me that box.”

She worked with her customary precision as she extracted a small square packet, ripped it open, and rolled the johnny into place. He moaned again and held onto her hips as she guided him into place and slid down until he was fully inside her. She brought one of his hands between them as he began to thrust up to meet her, and this time she managed to shatter around him before he finished, pulling him along with her as they both cried out and collapsed together, clinging to each other and panting.

After a moment, she rolled off him and snuggled up against his chest. He disposed of the johnny and she lifted herself up as he pulled the sheets and coverlet out from under them and then over top of them, pushing various items of clothing down to the floor in the process. One of those items was her dress, but at the moment she really couldn’t bring herself to care about it spending a night crumpled up on the floor.

Faintly, through the window, she heard church bells ringing.

 “Did bells just ring for you too?” she asked sleepily.

He huffed out a laugh and raised his head to check the clock. “Midnight. It’s Christmas morning.” He pulled her closer into his arms and yawned. “Merry Christmas, Peggy. Hope Santa’s good to you.”

She yawned too, and snugged closer to his side. “Merry Christmas, my darling,” she whispered. “I’ve already got everything I could possibly want.”


	4. Epilogue

They were very late for brunch the next morning, despite both being awake very early. “Do we go in separately?” Steve wondered, after they finally managed to get themselves out of the room. “Is there any point?”

Peggy shrugged. “I suppose we should maintain our polite fiction.” She gestured. “You go back to your room and get changed, then meet me there. I may even save you some bacon, if you hurry.”

Steve’s stomach rumbled audibly and Peggy laughed. “Hurry up, soldier.” He looked around to make sure they were alone and kissed her quickly but thoroughly before walking off. She smiled to herself and allowed herself to enjoy the view from behind before turning and making her way back to the dining room.

The brunch buffet was still running, and Peggy’s entrance did not go unnoticed. She’d checked her appearance carefully in the mirror and, if her hair was in much less elaborate style than usual, it was the only thing that signified any major change from her usual routine.

That didn’t faze Howard or the Commandos, though.

“Happy Christmas, Agent Carter! Did you sleep well?” asked Falsworth, a little too innocently, as she passed by him on her way to the buffet table.

“Very well, thank you,” said Peggy, resisting the urge to hum along to the Christmas carol playing on the radio in the corner of the room. She found herself quite unable to hide the fact that she was much more cheerful than she usually was when he saw her first thing in the morning, stumbling blearily out of her tent.

“Looks like you’re having a good Christmas,” said Howard, following her to the buffet table with a plate of his own. “You look very uh, cheerful and relaxed.”

“Sod off, Howard,” she said pleasantly, piling her plate high with bacon, eggs, and several pieces of toast.

“Walls work out for you two?” he asked, undaunted, and she ignored him, pouring herself a cup of tea and then taking it and her plate back to the table, sitting down in an empty seat next to Dugan.

“That’s a lot of food,” Dugan said, eyeing her plate. “All that dancing last night must have burned a lot of energy. You and Cap left kind of early, though.”

She sighed, and he grinned. “Sorry, Pegs. You do look pretty happy, though.”

“I am, thank you,” she said serenely, taking a bite of toast.

“Good,” he said, and she could tell he meant it. She smiled back at him, and applied herself fully to her breakfast.

She was halfway through her eggs when Steve finally appeared. He managed to escape much of the ribbing she’d endured, though, because Phillips had also arrived. “What’s going on with Phillips?” Dugan asked quietly, as Steve approached with his plate. “You still keeping under the radar?”

Peggy swallowed a bite of toast. “He may possibly be inclined to ignore evidence of any impropriety between Captain Rogers and myself. But officially, he didn’t say that.”

Dugan nodded. “Loose lips sink ships,” he said, miming turning a lock on his lips and throwing away the key. He grinned as Steve slid into the empty chair on the other side of Peggy and reached over to steal a piece of bacon from her plate. “Although, you’d have to be blind not to see it. You two are kind of sickening right now.”

Phillips was indeed looking over at the two of them and sighing in a very put-upon way.

“I didn’t even touch her!” protested Steve. “I just took a piece of bacon off her plate!”

“You have a vibe,” said Howard, snagging the chair across from Dugan. “So, what’s everyone planning to do today? I guess snowshoeing is really more of a work thing for you than something you’d do on your day off.”

Dugan produced a pack of cards. “Care to get in on our poker game?”

Steve looked at Peggy. She shrugged, setting down her fork. “I’ll play. But then,” she said, meeting Steve’s eyes, “I think I may have other plans for the afternoon.”

“Oh, God,” said Dugan, “You two are going to be even worse than before, aren’t you?”

Steve shrugged unrepentantly. “Probably.”

There was a short silence, during which Peggy found herself unable to stop smiling.

Howard shook his head. “It’s probably better to just pretend we don’t see them,” he said to Dugan. He helped himself to one of Steve’s toast halves. “On a related topic, what happened with you and that girl I saw you flirting with all evening?”

Dugan smiled. “Classified.”

Peggy took a sip of tea and watched as the banter flew, keeping the cup to her lips and inhaling the wonderful, strong scent. She could feel Steve next to her, warming up her entire body even though they weren’t actually touching, and she briefly let herself daydream about the future, and about all of the Christmas mornings to come.

And from now on, she decided, every Christmas Eve dinner would definitely have fondue on the menu.


End file.
